Eye of the Beholder

Author’s Notes: Thank you blue_lioness for your review. You might want to strap yourself down for this chapter.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Storm sits and watches the two of them talking, paying careful attention to her old friend and wondering if he’s even aware that he’s flirting with the other woman. His sudden compliment of Amanda’s beauty catches her by surprise, but from the look on his face, it caught him by surprise too. When the question about Brian is finally brought up, she knows it’s time for her to make her exit.

“I need to go powder my nose,” she announces, quickly standing up and heading off before either of them notice.

Storm moves off before they can react, making her way through the tables as swiftly as she can, considering the dress she’s wearing. She’s just glad she’s not wearing something similar to what Amanda has on. How the woman can even move in that thing is beyond her.

As she passes one of the larger tables, she can see quite a large crowd around it. As she attempts to get by, a name catches her attention and she moves in a little closer. A man wearing a Phantom costume who would normally just blend into the background is, for lack of a better term, holding court with a couple dozen people surrounding him. But what’s really strange in her mind are the several bottles of champagne sitting on the table when none of the other tables have bottles.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Brian who?” Amanda asks, barely aware of Storm’s exit.

“I don’t know, you’ve never told me his last name,” Hank replies, thoroughly enjoying himself. “But tell me, do I still sound snooty to you?”

He watches her as she stares at him in confusion for a good thirty seconds before realization dawns on her. He has to bite the inside of his cheek as her eyes get to be about as big as dinner plates, color drains from her face and a look of absolute dismay comes over her face. She covers her mouth with her hand as the blood returns full force and she practically glows red.

“Oh god, no,” she whispers in horror and he can’t stop the chuckle that’s trying to get out. “Oh dear god, no. Please god, no. Oh my god, please tell me I haven’t hanging up the UN Ambassador all this time.”

“I’m afraid so, my dear,” he snickers and she lets out a cry of anguish as she drops her face into her hands.

“Nonononononononononononono,” she wails and he can’t help but laugh.

She suddenly drops her hands down to the edge of the table and then begins banging her head on the table. He quickly reaches a long arm out, gets the candle out of the way and gets his large hand between her forehead and the table.

“Now, now, let’s have none of that,” he chuckles as he makes her look at him.

“Ambassador,” she moans in shame. “... um... uh... I'm sure there's an appropriate thing to say at this moment... probably some formal apology for the ‘snooty’ remarks would be in order, I just... I don't quite know how to word it.”

“No, it's my fault,” he replies, still smiling. “I shouldn't have called you at home or on your cell. I should have called you at the office.”

“No, no, of course not...,” she stammers, still completely embarrassed. “I mean, yes, you can call me wherever you want... home was fine, cell was fine, when I said, ‘of course not,’ I meant... that... You know what, to hell with it, I'm moving to another country! I wonder if Tibet needs a lawyer.”

“You’ll have to learn Tibetan,” he points out, still amused.

“Is it possible to die of embarrassment?” she asks.

“Fortunately, no,” he answers.

“Damn,” she mutters under her breath.

With that, she slumps back into her seat, dropping her face back into her hands, letting out little whimpers every once and a while as she sits there and it’s very hard for him to keep from laughing. He watches her and gets this overwhelming urge to comfort her, but as he reaches a hand out, he stops himself. He stares at his large, blue furry mitt and sighs, knowing that a Beauty such as her would never be interested in a Beast like him.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Storm stands back from the crowd and listens to a joke being told by the man who seems to have everyone’s rapt attention. When he’s done telling the joke all of the others laugh as if it’s the funniest thing they’ve ever heard and she just frowns. The joke wasn’t that funny and she doesn’t understand everyone’s reactions.

She moves a bit closer to the group surrounding the table when suddenly she feels very relaxed and it’s like all of her troubles are very far away, sort of like how she feels after a glass of wine. She’s drawn towards the man sitting at the other end of the table as if he is some guiding light. She moves around the seated people to get closer to him and when she’s about half way there he notices her.

“Well, hello there, I’m James Jones,” the man states, turning his full attention to Storm and people turn to look at her. “And who might you be?”

“Ororo Munroe,” she answers and she can’t help feeling that this is the nicest man in the world.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” he smiles and she blushes at the compliment. “How appropriate you’re dressed as Beauty, but where is your Beast?”

“He’s back over that way,” she replies, pointing in the direction that she’s just come from. “I believe he’s with your Christine.”

“Is he now?” he asks as he stands and offers his arm to her. “Then I guess I better go and claim her. Wouldn’t want the wrong beauty to tame the savage beast.”

He laughs and everyone laughs with him, including Storm as she takes his arm and she doesn’t understand why she didn’t think he was funny before. As they start to make their way around the table, midnight is called and everyone removes their masks. As the masks are quickly removed, James stops to say goodbye to the people at the table as they get ready to go home. As soon as the farewells are given, James starts to escort Storm away and she never sees the people suddenly stumble for a moment before shaking their heads and blinking as if the champagne has suddenly gone to their heads, even the ones that weren’t drinking.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hank gladly pulls his mask off, shaking his head at the stupidity of it all. What’s the point of wearing a mask when you stand out like a sore thumb in any crowd? The only person who could possibly stand out more would be Nightcrawler and that’s only because he has a tail.

“You can take your mask off now,” he states when he notices that she hasn’t moved her hands away from her face.

“No I can’t,” she sighs, finally dropping her hands into her lap. “The hairdresser wove the ribbons into my hair and she said that I’ll need help getting them out. If I try it myself then I’ll probably end up pulling out a lot of hair.”

“May I try?” he asks.

“If you want,” she answers dejectedly.

“If you don’t want me to touch you, I won’t,” he says, trying not to be hurt or offended.

“It’s not that,” she replies. “It’s been a long night. I’ve lost my date, I’m tired, my feet hurt, I twisted my ankle, I’ve given myself a headache, my boss is going to have my guts for garters and did I mention that I just found out that I’ve spent the past few weeks repeatedly insulting the UN Ambassador?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘insulting’ so much as baffling,” he responds as he stands up and moves around behind her. “But you haven’t answered my question. Who ?is Brian?”

“One of my cousins,” she answers as she stares down at her hands as he starts to follow the ribbons into her hair. “He loves playing practical jokes and doing voice impersonations.”

“Ah, that does explain why you didn’t believe it was me,” he replies as he starts to work his way through the soft curls. “So, why will your boss have your guts for garters?”

“My date is his nephew,” she responds, surprised how gentle such a big man can be.

“Oh, that will make things rather interesting come Monday morning,” he states as he finds the first bobby pin holding one of the ribbons in place. “I’m going to have to remove the pins holding your hair up in order to free the ribbons.”

“That’s fine,” she replies, as she closes her eyes, enjoying the feel of him playing with her hair even if it’s just to remove the bobby pins.

“So, how long have you known James?” he asks after about a minute of silence.

“Well, that depends on your definition of long,” she answers slowly, nearly asleep. “My boss asked me to be James’s date a few weeks ago and we talked over the phone a few times. We didn’t actually meet face to face until a few nights ago when he took me out to dinner.”

“I’d say that’s not very long,” he replies as he pulls out the last bobby pin. “I think that’s the last of them.”

She reaches up and slowly pulls the mask away from her face, being careful just in case not all of the bobby pins were found. As soon as the mask is pulled free and the ribbons come loose, her hair falls around her face and she drops the mask on the table with a sigh of relief. After moving around to her side, he puts a finger under her chin and makes her look up at him. Intelligent eyes that are such a light shade of green that they’re almost yellow gaze back at him and he can’t help but feel entranced by them.

“Thank you, Ambassador,” she whispers.

“It was my pleasure,” he quietly assures her. “And please call me…”

“Amanda, there you are!” a new voice calls out loudly, startling Hank and nearly making him growl.

“Hello, James,” Amanda says with no joy in her voice.

Hank straightens up and turns around to find a rather ordinary looking man walking towards them with Storm on his arm. His first instinct is to instantly dislike the man for abandoning Amanda but that all changes as James gets closer. Suddenly Hank can’t wait to make this young man’s acquaintance and he steps forward with his hand out.

“Ambassador Henry McCoy at your service,” Hank states as the other man reaches out and shakes his hand.

“James Jones at yours,” James replies as he turns his attention to Storm. “I found this lovely lady and I believe she belongs to you.”

“I believe she does,” Hank says as he holds out his hand and Storm reluctantly takes it, allowing Hank to pull her away. “And I believe this lovely creature is yours.”

“You had me most worried, young lady,” James gently admonishes as Hank moves out of his way.

“I’m sorry, James” Amanda says, sounding truly contrite. “I tried to find you, but then I twisted my ankle and the Ambassador was nice enough to help me.”

“Thank you, sir, I am truly in your debt,” James says when he turns to Hank then turning back to Amanda. “Do you think you can walk?”

“I think so,” Amanda answers as she pulls the bag of ice off of her ankle before dropping it on the table and standing with James’s help.

“How does it feel?” James inquires, keeping a good grip on her.

“It’s ok,” Amanda replies as she gingerly puts weight on the hurt foot. “I should be fine as long as you help me.”

“Of course, my dear,” James assures her as he positions himself by her side with one arm around her waist and the other under her elbow. “Are you ready to go?”

“Just let me pick up my shoes and then I’ll be ready to go,” Amanda tells him as she turns and moves her skirts out of the way to find the little torture devices.

“Here, allow me,” Hank offers as he picks her heels up and hands them to her.

“Thank you, Ambassador,” Amanda smiles as she takes the shoes. “For everything.”

“It has been my pleasure, my dear,” Hank replies with a smile of his own.

“Shall we go?” James asks a bit forcefully.

“If you want,” Amanda answers.

With that, James ushers Amanda away as quickly as he can since her ankle is still tender. As James and Amanda disappear into the crowd of exiting party goers, both Hank and Storm get a wave of the dizzies and barely manage to stay upright by holding onto each other. They blink a few times as if they’re just waking up and look at one another in confusion.

“What just happened?” Storm asks as a shiver runs down her back.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Hank answers as he makes sure she’s steady on her feet before releasing her. “One moment I’m quite prepared to give that young man a good tongue lashing for abandoning Miss Simon and the next I wanted him to be my best friend. How very odd.”

“When I found him there were at least a couple dozen people sitting around the table he was at,” she tells him. “He didn’t seem to be the least concerned that his date has been missing for a couple hours. He told some really lame joke and everyone laughed as if they hadn’t heard anything funnier in their entire lives. When I got close to him it suddenly felt like I had just finished a glass of wine and I haven’t had any alcohol all evening. Do you think he’s a mutant?”

“He has to be,” he replies, a frown on his face that turns to one of worry. “And we just let him take Miss Simon with him. Heaven knows what he can make her do.”

“Look, she forgot her mask,” she says, pointing at the object on the table.

“We must hurry, my dear,” he states as he grabs the item and heads for the stairs. “I don’t trust that man.”

With that he’s racing towards the stairs, trying not to run anyone over in his mad rush. She follows him as best she can in heels and a long heavy skirt. As much as she’d love to just use her powers to fly down to the next level, it would require causing a lot of damage to the buildings and the exhibits, not exactly the best way to improve human and mutant relations. So instead she moves as fast as she can and prays that they are not too late.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hank pushes his way past people as politely as he can; profusely apologizing as he goes, hoping and praying that he’s not too late. When he reaches the main floor, the place is packed with people trying to leave the building. He attempts to get through them, but there are just too many of them and despite the large skirts some of the woman are wearing, he just can’t get out any faster.

Some eternity later, he’s finally outside and desperately looking around for Amanda and James. There are too many people, there’s too much noise, there’s not enough light and as he desperately looks around, he hears a woman giggle carried to him on the wind. He’s not sure why it catches his attention, but it does and he turns to search for the maker of that sound.

He easily spots them headed straight for him and he’s caught off guard for a moment. A pleasant relaxed feeling starts to envelope him and he quickly takes several steps backwards, not even apologizing to the people he bumps into. They don’t notice him as they seem totally intent on one another and uncertainty hits him for a minute.

She giggles again as James kisses her bare shoulder and the hand that’s supposed to be supporting her around her waist travels up her torso until his finger tips are gently caressing the side of one of her breasts. Hank nearly growls as she gasps and giggles once more and the smell of her arousal hits him like a ton of bricks.

Again doubt grips him and he’s not sure if he has the right to do this. Maybe this is what she wants; maybe he’s mistaken about the other man being a mutant, but then he sees her eyes. They’re vacant, like there’s no one there, the intelligence completely gone and he knows deep down in his gut that this is wrong.

“AMANDA!” Hank barks loudly.

Several people are startled and gasp and jump at the sudden noise, including James and Amanda. James looks at him and scowls for a moment as Amanda suddenly staggers as if she’s had too much to drink. Hank moves at a startling speed towards them as she shakes her head and blinks, trying to shake off the dizzy spell. Before Hank can reach them, she turns towards James, drops her shoes, places her hands flat on his chest and gives him a good hard shove causing him to lose his balance and fall flat on his ass.

“How dare you,” she growls at the fallen man.

“Amanda, wait!” James calls, reaching out for her as she turns tail and runs back inside.

Hank starts to follow her, giving James only a brief glance as he pauses to pick up her shoes and sees the man’s face contorted with rage at him. Hank smirks before continuing to give chase to the fleeing woman. Following her isn’t too difficult since she cuts a fairly large wake through the exiting people with that dress on.

Once they’re inside, she heads off to one side, blindly bumping into people as she continues her headlong flight. Just before he finally catches up with her she dashes through a door and he almost follows her until he sees the sign on it.

“Oh dear,” he mumbles.

“Perhaps I should go talk to her,” Storm suggests.

“Yes, perhaps it would be best,” he agrees and she smiles at him before going into the lady’s restroom.

Storm finds Amanda down on her knees, shaking uncontrollably and gasping for air. Storm moves around the fallen woman and sees her face is pale and covered in a thin sheen of sweat and her eyes have a glassy look to them

“Are you alright?” Storm quietly asks.

“I think I’m going to be sick,” Amanda gasps.

Amanda lurches to her feet and stumbles into the handicap stall, not even noticing when the door catches on her skirt and tears the material. Storm squeezes into the stall with her and holds back her hair as she retches into the toilet. Several minutes later, Amanda sits back gasping for air and crying. Storm grabs some toilet paper and hands it to her so that she can clean herself up a bit.

“Feel better?” Storm softly inquires.

“He was going to…,” Amanda starts and then immediately leans over the toilet again to dry heave into it.

“Did you know he was a mutant before you came here?” Storm questions as she hands Amanda more toilet paper.

“Yes,” Amanda moans as she leans her forehead against the metal handrail. “He told me just before we left the hotel. He said it wasn’t a flashy power. What he failed to mention is that it’s powerful. God, when I think what would have happened if the Ambassador hadn’t shown up. I feel like such an idiot.”

Amanda hugs herself and shivers as she quietly cries, not caring that her mascara is running down her face or that she’s ruining a borrowed dress. When she’s finally pulled herself together enough, Storm helps her over to the sink so she can wash her face. While she’s doing that, Storm goes and picks up Amanda’s bag and shawl off of the floor.

“How do you feel?” Storm asks.

“Like I’ve been hit by a Peterbilt,” Amanda mutters, looking dead on her feet. “I guess I should call a cab now, but I’m afraid to go back out there. I know he’s waiting for me.”

“I’ll go check for you,” Storm offers.

“No, please don’t,” Amanda begs. “I have no idea how strong he is or what is range is. He could do to you what he was going to do to me.”

“Forewarned, is forearmed,” Storm replies as she heads for the door. “I’ll be careful.”

With that, Storm sweeps out the door leaving behind a terrified Amanda with nothing but the sound of her breathing and her racing heartbeat for company.